Nicole took one look at the mischievous look in Sam’s eyes and knew she was in trouble. So when he bent over to scoop up some mud, she shoved him off balance.
“Hey!” He fell to the side and into the mud. She took the opportunity to turn to make her getaway.
If the mud hadn’t sucked down her boots, she might have made it, too.
As she tried to pull free of the mud, Sam said, “Not so fast, Nikki.”
His hand wrapped around her calf and yanked her backward. She lost her balance and fell backward on top of him. The air rushed out of her lungs, but at least he was more solid than the mud beneath his back.
“I hope your plan was for me to squish you more into the mud and get more on you,” Nicole said. She started to struggle to get up, but his hands on her hips stopped her.
“If you squirm any more, we are going to have more than just a mud problem,” he said through his teeth.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She glanced over her shoulder. Sam half leaned out of the mud, but he was definitely more covered in it than she was. A spark of heat in his eyes made her aware of the intimacy of their position. The warmth of him against her backside surged through her. If it hadn’t stunk like crazy and the flies weren’t trying to bite every piece of mud from her body, she might have been tempted to...
She looked away. He was probably worried about an elbow to his crotch, and here she was getting all hot and bothered while covered in mud and...stuff. She took a deep breath and instantly regretted it. It was the other stuff that made her wrinkle her nose.
Needing to keep things easy, she glanced back again and flashed him a grin. “Afraid I’ll get more mud on you?”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” He pushed her up by her hips until she could regain her footing. “And here I thought you’d play fair.”
She turned to watch him peel himself out of the mud. “There’s nothing fair about your height or weight advantage. You just fall easy.”
He raised his eyebrow at her as he stood up. “Maybe unbalanced in a pigpen, I fall easy.”
She shook off what mud she could. This wasn’t exactly facial or soothing mud bath material. “It’s starting to itch.”
“That’s because it’s drying. We should go over to the hose.” He started to lead the way out of the pen.
“You aren’t serious about the hose?” When he didn’t respond, she added, “Seriously? When there is a perfectly good hot shower in the house?”
He stopped and faced her. “We’re not allowed to track mud through the house.”
“Isn’t it your house?” She crossed her arms. “If I’d known about the lack of warm water facilities, I would have fallen in the mud at my own house.”
“You’re welcome to walk home.” He gestured for her to go ahead.
There was a lot of land between the two houses, and going the road way wouldn’t be any better. Screw that. “Oh, no. You drove me here, and you’ll be driving me back.”
“I suppose you could ride in the truck bed, but only after I’ve had a chance to shower and change.”
She weighed her options. Cold and dripping wet followed by a nice warm shower or being eaten alive by flies and itching from the drying mud for some unknown amount of time? She could feel Sam watching her as she made her decision. “What will I change into?”
His eyes flared hot for a second before his cool demeanor slipped back into place. Probably just her imagination running wild. To Sam she’d always just been that annoying tomboy from next door, who happened to be his best friend.
“I’m sure I can find you a T-shirt and sweats,” he said.
“Somehow I don’t think we are the same size like we were way back when,” she grumbled. She’d always liked wearing her boyfriend’s shirts, but she needed to remember Sam was just a friend, even if wearing his clothes seemed intimate. “I suppose I’ll let you hose me down, but on one condition.” She held up her finger.
“What’s that?” The corner of his mouth twitched.
She narrowed her eyes and shook her finger at him. “As long as you don’t like it.”
A laugh burst from his lips. Her heart skipped a beat at the sound as she smiled up at him. It didn’t last long, but it soothed her to know that he still could laugh.
His mouth settled into a small smile that made her catch her breath. “I’ll try. But you better not have any fun hosing me down, either. This isn’t the water balloon fight of ’95.”
Shaking off the sudden feelings of giddiness bubbling under the surface, she said, “Okay, hug on it.”
He held out his hands. “No—”
As if that would stop her. She stepped into his arms and squeezed him around the waist. The mud on them made weird smacking noises. She laughed as she released him. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”
“Says you.” He continued toward the back of the house where the hose was. Hose water was hose water, and she’d never had a warm soak from a hose. The water out here was either from the well or the cistern. Either way, it would be frigid underground water, regardless of the warm weather.
“Don’t you have a pond that we can jump into?” She stopped a few feet away from him as he went to turn the hose on.
“Not unless you want to get eaten by mosquitoes.” He turned the handle, and the rush of water could be heard flooding through the line. He picked up the other end of the hose as the water cascaded to the ground. “Besides, it’s a runoff from the hog pens. You’d get cleaner from rolling in the pens.”
The spray created a rainbow. Of course, a rainbow would normally be a happy thing, but not when it was created by water from the Arctic.
“Wait.” She held up her hands to ward off the oncoming blast of cold water. “What if I just take off my clothes?”
“I don’t think—”
His words stopped the second she started unbuttoning her shirt. “It’s not like we’d be naked. I have on a bra and underwear, and I’m sure you are wearing some sort of underwear. The mud would mostly be our heads, which would be just fine walking through your house. Not that our heads walk, but—”
“Nicole.” Her name was gruff, almost strangled, on his lips.
“I’m just trying to make it easier on us.” She stopped unbuttoning her shirt and glanced up at him, uncertain of what she was going to see.
His eyes were glued to her hands as they hovered over the last button. She watched in fascination as he swallowed. Her skin prickled, and it had nothing to do with the heat or the drying mud. She had thought to avoid the chill of the hose water, but at the intensity of his gaze, she would almost have welcomed the cold.
Try as she might, she couldn’t deny the attraction in his eyes or the desire burning beneath her skin. Even covered in...stuff. Oh, she was in trouble. And she didn’t know how deep she wanted to dig herself. She could laugh this off and pretend she didn’t see or feel what was happening between them. Deny this intense longing to just go with her gut for the first time in a long time.
Her gut was saying go for it. What was the worst that could happen? It wasn’t as if she’d fall for the boy next door. What was sex between old friends? Would he be up for a roll in the hay with no obligations? Or was he looking for more at this point in his life?
It didn’t matter. If Sam had wanted to act on this attraction, he would have. The men she’d been with had always taken the initiative. If a man wanted to kiss you, he’d kiss you. Right? She needed to get it through her head that this wasn’t happening between them. They were just friends. Not even real friends. Friends from childhood.
“I think this is the quietest I’ve been in a long time.” She tried to laugh, but it came out stilted.
He lifted his gaze to hers, and she took an involuntary step back. The intensity of his eyes struck some primal need deep inside her. Whoa, who would have known that Sam Ward was the type of guy who could melt her into a puddle with just a look? If she felt this way from a look, what would happen if he actually touched her? Goose bumps rose on her exposed skin. That was a very dangerous idea. As much as she longed to finish taking off her shirt and let whatever happens happen, she wasn’t sure she could handle the intensity of Sam. Maybe being partially naked in front of him wasn’t a great idea, even if the alternative was freezing cold water.
She pulled her shirt together. The mud squished between her fingers.
“You know, the hose probably won’t be that bad.” Lord knew her flesh needed cooling down. She flinched but braced herself for the cold. “Go ahead. Spray me.”
* * *
Eighty-five. Eighty-six. Eighty-seven. If Sam kept counting, he could fight this urge to walk over and finish stripping Nicole naked. He started counting the second he caught sight of Nicole’s hot-pink bra under the dull flannel shirt. Its little bow seemed to beckon him with its innocent temptation. It’d been almost easy to think of her as one of the guys with her body completely covered. Almost. It had been a hell of a lot easier before seeing that flash of femininity.
As he’d counted in his head, she’d innocently revealed a bit more of her skin. She hadn’t even been aware of what she was doing to him. The low simmer of desire that pulsed through his veins every time she was close was now a full boil. He was barely managing to keep it from boiling over.
“Are you going to do it?” She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself. She’d covered herself, but the image was burned into his retinas. Satin pale skin that looked soft yet stretched over muscles that were clearly toned. His fingertips twitched with the need to feel if it really was as soft and lush as it looked.
Ninety-four. He looked up into the sky. Maybe a plane would fall on him. Just a few more numbers and surely he’d be able to focus again. Ninety-five.
Her voice had that what-are-you-doing tone to it when she said, “Sam.”
He sighed. Was it possible for Nicole to stay quiet for longer than a minute? At least give him long enough to calm the throbbing inside. Ninety-six.
“Am I going to have to hose myself down?”
When he looked at her, she had exactly the stance he imagined she’d have. One hand on her hip and one hand holding her shirt together. The only thing missing was a tapping foot. She still looked tempting as hell.
This was ridiculous. He took a deep breath and raced through the numbers until he reached a hundred. A grown man should be able to be near an attractive woman without thinking of her in a sexual way. Obviously he needed to work on growing up more. He held the hose out to her, not trusting himself to keep from making a fool out of himself. Besides, the cold water would do him good. “Maybe you should hose me down first.”
She buttoned her middle button, leaving way too much skin showing for his comfort, and then grabbed the hose from him. The water formed a muddy area in the grass. She screwed up her face, and he knew she was going to argue with him. Nothing was ever easy with Nicole. “Are you sure about this? I could turn around, and you could take off your clothes, and then I can—”
“Just do it, Nicole.” He bit out the words from between his clenched teeth.
She held the hose up and smiled a little too gleefully. “If you insist.”
She pressed her thumb over the spout and created a spray. The water was cool as it hit his chest and soaked through his shirt. It didn’t do much to cool the burning desire within him, but it was better than nothing.
“Turn around and I’ll get your back,” Nicole said loudly over the sound of splattering mud and water.
He turned, and the ice-cold water soaked the back of his shirt and denims. As the water started to weigh down his jeans, he realized he hadn’t thought this through. His jeans would be near impossible to get off wet, but it wasn’t as if he could throw them in the wash covered in mud. And he wasn’t about to take them off here with Nicole watching. She’d realize how much she affected him. Cold water or not.
“Take off your shirt.”
“What?” He turned and got a face full of water.
“Oops.” Laughing, she lowered the hose and held up her hands. “I swear I didn’t mean to do that.”
Her smile had that little hint of mischief in it. He wasn’t sure if she’d meant to spray him in the face or not.
“I’m not sure I believe that,” he mumbled as he swiped the water from his face. He wasn’t in any condition to get retribution without acting on the latent desire burning in his veins.
“Take off your shirt and I’ll get your head.” She tossed the hose between her hands like a gunslinger and kept that grin on her face.
“You already got me in the face.” He started unbuttoning his shirt. “Not sure what you need me to take off my soggy, dirty shirt for. It’s not like it could get much dirtier.”
“Your hair is filled with dried mud. It’d be a lot easier to get the back of it without your collar in the way.” That was way too reasonable for Nicole.
He narrowed his eyes at her. She was up to something. He just didn’t know what yet. Even though the water was cold, the air was still hot. Getting out of his shirt seemed like a good plan to cool down his body from the heat of the day and the heat of his desire for Nicole.
He turned his back to her as he shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it over to the porch. “Hit me.”
A second passed and then another, but no blast of cold hit him. Just when he was going to turn around to ask her about it, she cleared her throat.
“Sure.” Her voice was a little higher in pitch, but before he could turn around to figure out what she was thinking, a blast of cold water hit the back of his head.
Mud started to streak down his face. “Hold up!”
The water retreated. “What?”
He looked over his shoulder at her and raised his eyebrow, dislodging some mud in the process so that it ran down his cheek.
“What, you can’t handle a little mud in your eyes?”
“No, and I don’t care for it in my mouth, either.”
Giggling, she glanced around the yard.
“Okay, new plan.” Nicole walked toward him. She pointed over to a stump from the tree he had cut down last year. “Sit down. You really are too tall, you know. You should have stopped growing at least a foot ago. It would make you so much easier to deal with.”
“You mean you could get your way easier?” He wasn’t sure where that had come from. He wasn’t normally someone who teased people. But Nicole wasn’t some people. She talked whenever he stopped and ordered him around as if she had some right to. When they’d been kids, she’d always been the boss. Whether she was the king—because queen was too feminine for the tomboy Nicole had been—or the head cowboy, Nicole had been determined to have her way. Back then, he’d been more than happy to let her lead him around. Now...he wasn’t so sure.
He kept his back to her but glanced her way.
“Exactly. If you didn’t practice lifting cows every day and grow to an impractical height, it would be a lot easier to make you do my bidding.” She closed the distance between them and squinted up at him. “If I’d known you were going to get so tall, I would have kept growing.”
He smiled over his shoulder at her. “Like you had a choice in the matter.”
She gave him her best serious expression, which was a feat given the amount of mud on her head and face. “Of course I had a choice. Now go sit down so I can rinse the mud out of your hair. Then you can do the same for me.”
He shook his head but went over to the stump and sat down. The cold water had barely taken the edge off his desire. A desire he shouldn’t even have. Even if she weren’t here temporarily, Nicole deserved better than someone like him. He destroyed every relationship he touched. Both his brothers hadn’t talked to him for years after he’d messed up their lives. It wasn’t until recently that he’d tried to make things right with them. But it still niggled at the back of his brain that he would screw it up for them again and destroy the happiness they’d finally found. They were better off without him in their lives. Nicole would be better off when she left, too.
That thought affected the burning in his veins, leaving him slightly chilled on the inside.
“Okay, hmm...” Nicole still stood behind him. He could hear the water splashing on the roots of the tree.
“What’s wrong?” He didn’t bother turning around. What did it matter what he felt or didn’t feel? He was no good to anyone. “Just get it done.”
“Okay, Mr. Grumpy Pants,” she muttered. “Lean your head back so the mud doesn’t get in your eyes.”
He closed his eyes and did as she asked. Her fingers brushed his hair over his ear as the cold water flooded his scalp. She ran her hands through his hair, and something hot and needy jolted inside him.
His hand closed around her wrist to stop the motion of her hand. “What are you doing?”
“Picking flowers,” she said in a flat tone. “Gee, Sam, I’m just getting the mud out of your hair, not trying to suck your brains out or anything.”
He was an ass. Nicole was just trying to be nice and take care of him. She was being the friend that he used to have. And all he could think about was the fact that she was so close to him that he could lean back and feel the heat of her skin against his back. That he could turn and have her in his arms and feel the softness of her lips pressed against his. What kind of friend was he that whenever she was near him, all he could think about was kissing her?
“Are you going to let go of my hand so I can finish?”
“What? Yeah.” He released her wrist. The sooner she finished, the sooner he could get away from her.
Her fingers stroking his scalp were torture. It had been a long time since he’d had anyone touch him that way. It wasn’t sexual, but it wasn’t casual, either. Relaxing, comforting, but with that zing of attraction.
“I always wondered about you.” Her words were barely audible above the flow of water.
“Wondered?” He dared not to open his eyes and look up into her face. A man had only so much resistance, and his was sorely tried. Even with all his doubts, the only things that welled within him were the facts that she was Nicole and he burned for her. He hadn’t even hosed her down yet. Maybe he could do that with his eyes closed.
Her fingers slid over his ear and through his hair. “You know, things like what you were doing. If you had a girlfriend. If you were happy.”
He grunted. They’d covered all that the other night. The water didn’t seem so cold with her touching him.
“I never wondered about your job, though. It seems like you were always destined for this farm, and it was always yours.” She brushed his hair with her free hand, and he almost wished she had both hands free to work through his hair. “Though I could see you as a firefighter or cop.”
“Not a doctor like Luke or whatever it is that Brady does at that company he works for?” Next to his brothers, he was nothing. He never even went to college because Dad died and Mom got sick. He had been needed here on the farm, and he’d been happy to do what he could for his family. “What did Jeremy do?”
“Jeremy?” She sounded as if she didn’t know who Jeremy was. That made Sam smile. Maybe he affected her, too. “Oh, Jeremy. He was an investment banker. Totally boring job.”
But Sam bet it paid good money. Not like the farm, which barely earned enough to keep food on his table. He’d had a few good years and worked some temporary jobs in the winter to keep up with the bills, but he’d barely been afloat when Brady had come back to town. Sam was not exactly the type of man who attracted women. At least not the type of woman who would stay and be part of his life.
“When he would talk about his job, my eyes would feel heavy, and I swear I would nap a little while listening to him.” Nicole brushed her hand through the water over his bare shoulder. “He never did listen to me, anyway.”
The muscles in his shoulder twitched at her touch. Even if he could have gotten words past his thickened throat, Sam didn’t know what to say to that. How could someone not listen to her? She talked all the time, but her voice had a soothing quality about it that made it almost musical instead of annoying.
Instead of saying anything, he took a deep breath. His breath was shaky from her touch.
“All clean,” she announced, and he felt the loss of her warmth when she stepped back. “That didn’t seem so bad. Here you go. Do your worst.”
He turned and reached for the hose in her outstretched hand. Her smile froze on her face as she stared at his chest. He’d almost forgotten.
She reached out and touched the healing scar from his surgery. “What happened?”
He hissed, but not from pain. Heat raced through him. Her touch was like burning coals on his body.
“Does it hurt?” She stared up at him with her huge green eyes. “Sam? This is a fresh scar. What is it from? Did you hurt yourself? No wonder you were in pain lifting me from the ground. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have managed to get up on my own, though you were definitely helpful, but I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
“I had surgery.”
She stared at the scar, trying to piece together what had needed operation. The scar was on his left pectoral muscle. She could probably feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palm. Her hands shook, and when she lifted her eyes to look at him, tears swam in them. “Your heart?”
He nodded.
“But...” A tear slipped over the edge and left a clean track in the dried mud along her cheek. “But...”
Nicole’s upset was something he wasn’t used to. Brady had been matter-of-fact about it, and Luke had been angry, but neither of them had cried about it. Even Sam hadn’t cried about it. It was what it was, and now it was over. “It’s okay, Nicole.”
“No, it’s not.” She shook her head and pressed her palm over his heart as if she could heal it through her touch alone. “Why didn’t you tell me? When did this happen? Are you going to die? Is your heart fixed? I’ve gone on and on about me and my problems, but oh, my God, Sam...”
She pressed her trembling lips together as if she was trying to hold back a sob.
“I’m not dying.” Sam hadn’t really spoken about his heart to anyone outside of his immediate family, though most of Tawnee Valley knew. That was the way it was with a small community. “I had a valve that needed to be replaced. No big deal.”
“Are you just trying to make me feel better, or are you telling me the truth? Because, so help me God, Sam Ward, if you die on me, I will never forgive you.” Her relieved smile didn’t quite make it to her eyes.
“I’m not ready to die yet.” Sam covered her hand with his. He meant it, too. He’d hardly lived. His life had been this farm and taking care of his brothers. And now he didn’t know what he wanted, but he wanted more. More than this farm and the solitude it forced on him. More than living a life that was forced on him because his parents died too early.
“Good. Now be a good guy and hose me down before the flies eat me alive.” She slid her hand out from under his and stepped back. “I’m warning you, though—scar or no scar—if you don’t play fair, I will wrestle that hose away from you and make you pay.”
His chest felt lighter at her grin. Whenever Luke or Brady looked at him, even now, there was always this glint of concern or worry in their eyes, but not Nicole. She accepted the fact that he said he was fine, and she acted as if nothing had happened.
“Sure.” He lifted the hose and sprayed.
“Oh, my God, that is cold.” She danced around but stayed in the stream. “I don’t know how you stood there silently while I hosed you off. If I’d known you were just taking it like a man, I would have said never mind, I’ll let the flies eat me alive. I even thought it’d feel good in this heat, but I was wrong. It feels damned cold. Cold, cold, cold.”
He couldn’t help his smile.
She spun and he continued to hose down her back, but when she started to shrug out of her shirt, he lowered the spray.
“What are you doing?” he got out around the frog in his throat.
She glanced over her shoulder with a mischievous look. “Why, I’m just making sure you’ll be able to do as good a job as I did.”
Before he could protest further, she chucked her shirt over to where he’d left his. Only her pink bra interrupted the silky skin of her back.
As she sat on the tree stump, she reached up and pulled out the band holding her dark hair in a ponytail. “Ew, please don’t judge me on the cleanliness of my hair, because normally I don’t go rolling around in pigpens.”
He swallowed. He could do this. It was no different than seeing her in a bathing suit. They’d seen each other in bathing suits growing up, but Nicole hadn’t developed back then. She was all woman now. From her narrow waist to her curved hips. He didn’t dare look at her front. He already knew from their multiple hugs that she’d developed quite nicely up top.
“I’m ready when you are.” She tipped her head back, looking up at the sky, and leaned back, pressing her hands against the stump.
He glanced at his dirty, waterlogged shirt and almost went over to put it on. Maybe the drape of his shirt would hide the fact that he was turned on.
“Come on, Sam.” She glanced over at him. “You aren’t afraid of me, are you? That I’ll ravish you when you least expect it? I promise not to bite...hard.”
Screw it. He walked over, and she smiled as if she’d won, tipped her head back and closed her eyes. He lifted the hose and let the water pour over her hair. He meant to keep his eyes on her hair, but the way she held her body thrust her breasts up too nicely for him not to notice. They were as perfect as he’d imagined. He wished he hadn’t imagined them, but ever since Nicole came back into his life, all he could think about was her.
What was she thinking? What was she doing? What was she wearing? What did her lips taste like? What did her skin feel like? Would making love to her feel the same as when he hugged her? Warm and comfortable, like a missing piece of himself. Or hot and unpredictable, like the words that cascaded out of her mouth.
“Use your hand,” she said, and he about dropped the hose.
“What?” His muscles twitched from resisting using his hands to feel her velvety skin, but that couldn’t be what she meant.
“In my hair,” she said. “Use your hand to get out some of the mud, or else it will all be going down your drain in the shower I plan to take after this. And if your pipes are anything like Dad’s, then you don’t need all that muck going down them.”
Sam sighed and looked up to the sky as if to ask, “Why me?” Hadn’t he been tested enough? This was just another chore. Another job. If he didn’t think about it, maybe he could just get through it quickly and be done. But the minute he touched her hair with the water rushing over his fingertips, he knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore the growing heat between them.
Beneath the mud, her hair was silken strands running through his fingers. He rubbed at a particularly stubborn piece of mud.
“Mmm, that feels good.” The husky tone of her voice was rich with the pleasure she was feeling and made his wet jeans even tighter. She practically purred, “Don’t stop, Sam.”
Though Sam was a bit rusty on the dating and friendship side of things, his body definitely believed this was more than friendly. His pulse raced as if he’d had to run down the bull in the neighbor’s yard. Either Nicole was unconsciously sexy as hell or she was inviting him down a road they probably shouldn’t travel.
“I always loved having my hair washed.” Nicole opened her eyes, and he found himself caught in her gaze. Never-ending layers of light green, complex and simple all at once. “Could you imagine what it would have been like in the days when people used to help you bathe and dress? I’ve actually gone to the salon just for a shampoo before. It always seems so decadent. Paying someone to do something you could do yourself. Not that I’m lazy about washing my own hair...but you’ve got some amazing hands. You could make a lot of money washing hair, but I probably wouldn’t want to share you. I’ll keep you my own little secret for when I find myself dunked in mud.”
Her eyes drifted shut, but her lips curved into a satisfied smile. She was just spouting nonsense. That was Nicole. Words just flowed out of her. Ideas layered upon unsuspecting words. He knew he should take his hand out of her hair, that the water had taken most of the mud out of her hair, but he couldn’t help himself. She practically purred when he ran his fingers along her scalp and through her hair. His body was stiff from repressed desire. He caught water in his hand and ran it along her cheekbone, brushing over the dirt with his thumb until it disappeared.
“Nicole?” He pushed out her name, needing someone else to end this dangerous game, knowing he never could.
She opened her eyes. Her pupils were dilated, and her breathing had quickened. His gaze caught on the rise and fall of her breasts with every breath. Her lips parted in an invitation he wasn’t strong enough to deny.
He dropped the hose as she rose to stand before him. Her chin tipped up to offer him her perfect lips. Blood raced through his veins, taking away any reasoning. Leaving him with only the burning desire to taste her lips.
She placed her hands over his racing heart but didn’t push him away. “Sam.”
His name was a beacon on her lips, drawing him down until only a whisper was between them. Even though he truly wanted this, he knew it was wrong. Wrong for her.
He searched her eyes, looking for the strength he needed to back away, but all he saw was an open invitation in her sweet smile, the acceptance of what was happening between them. No judgment, no pity, only desire. New beginnings.
Her hands smoothed up his chest, over his shoulders and to the back of his neck. He drew in a breath as she smiled up at him. “Yes,” she said.
Before he could think better of it, she pulled him down until his lips touched hers. Her body pressed into his. The bare skin of his stomach brushed against her soft skin. The contact shot through him like a bolt of lightning. His hands grabbed her hips and pulled her solidly against him as he took control of the kiss. She tasted sweet. He deepened the kiss and let go of all thoughts of right and wrong, friends and lovers.
The touch of her chilled skin burned through him. Her fingers clutched at his hair as she gave as good as she got from the kiss. No one had been this close to Sam in years—not just sexually, but in the way she accepted him. She didn’t give him looks as if she was trying to figure him out.
Somehow she knew him. It gave him hope that maybe, somewhere inside, that little boy who would have slayed dragons next to her still existed. Maybe that was enough for whatever this was becoming. If it didn’t feel so right and good, he would have pulled back and apologized. But the noise she made in the back of her throat blew through any thoughts of good deeds. He was willing to go to hell for this.